Demure- Shattered Confidence
by Light8mare
Summary: They knew he wasn't all that confident in himself, but none bothered to ask why. When he's found half-dead on a road, leaving him with scars both visable and not so, they have no choice but to go to the root of the problem, buried within a fear-filled past.


Demure bites his lip nervously.

It would only be a matter of time now. They would come for him.

He had no idea when or where, but they would. They always looked forward to a reason to hurt him.

Kwame Afolayan and his gang.

Demure had had to watch his back for them ever since he was eleven, when they had first begun harassing him. It had only gotten worse as he got older.

A week before he had gone to where the team tryouts were being held he had been utterly paranoid, as they had beat him up constantly, . He had actually still had bruises on his arms through the tournament, explaining the wraps on his arms.

It seemed a stroke of luck that Nile had had the same wraps on his own, though probably for other reasons, like protection from the sand in his home country. Seeing both native Africans wearing the wraps must have silenced any questions their Japanese teamates would have had.

So lucky.

If only that luck had lasted.

Before he had left, Kwame had warned him not to dishonor their country with a loss "Because we all know just how pathetic you are little Demure!"

They had been fine, till they faced Gangan Galaxy. His first real battle, and it ends in utter disaster. Just how strong had that silver-haired guy been?

Whatever his strength, it didn't matter, because Demure had screwed up and now Kwame would punish him.

Worried, Demure tugs absently at a loose string in the floor rug, then marvels at his memories of the other places they had been to.

_Africa is so different from Japan..._ He thinks, remembering his foreign teamates. They had been so strong... Nile too. Benkei could easily pick him up, and had during many battles when he had gotten excited, and Kyoya had been simply untouchable by everyone but his rival.

Half of him wished they were all here, silencing his tormentor with a simple glare, but the other half knew that Team Wildfang disapproved of weakness. If he couldn't handle himself alone, he was worthless to the pride.

They had taken him up mainly for his foresight, but what good was that when thirteen people were clobbering you at once?

A small noise startles him out of his thoughts and he searches the room frantically. _Is he here? Am I going to be attacked?! _

Nothing moves, and after several minutes Demure stops scanning for them, almost convinced they weren't inside. Never convinced he was safe.

No. He had only been safe far away with his team, and they had parted their ways months ago.

-.-

His neck prickles and he turns again, but no one was there. He was alone on his way home, so it was a prime time for his attackers to strike. Sighing anxiously, he turns back forward and gasps, stepping back, when he sees a figure come into view.

Kwame.

He grins maliciously, his white teeth a stark contrast to his dark skin.

_Of course. _Demure thinks bitterly, mentally scolding himself for falling for one of their favorite tricks. While the goons followed from behind, purposely making noises to put him on edge and distract him, Kwame would come from the front and effectively corner him.

"You bad little kid," Kwame mocks disapprovingly. "You realize how stupid our country looks now? All because an idiot like you went out and screwed up a children's game. How stupid!" He sneers. "Guess it's time for punishment now!"

-.-

Demure tries vainly to stop a painful moan from rising through his throat, but it was too much.

He was on his knees, held up only by two gang members as the others enjoyed pounding him and shouting terrible things to him. By now he was shaking like a leaf, his breathing coming out weak and wheezing, and sticky blood pouring down his face.

Bored of watching his subordinates have all the fun, Kwame finally steps forward and they immediately part for him. Demure's trembling grows worse as he watches him slowly walk towards him. Kwame was the worst. He knew exactly how to torment Demure, knew all his weak points. Of course he did. No one became leader off inexperience, and Kwame was an expert at making his victims break.

Kwame stops in front of him and Demure stiffens, too frightened to move. He had heard stories at the village of kids who hadn't been the same after Kwame's ruthless torment, and now he had earned Kwame's full wrath.

One of the worst parts was how he did it.

Slowly, deliberately, and painfully. His threats were whispered and he picked out his striking points with the care of a spider. Fear was his gun.

With a serpentine smile, Kwame begins his onslaught.

* * *

**This all because his wiki mentioned confidence issues. **

**And then our school did the little anti-bully presentation. **

**Suddenly I put 3 and goldfish together and got spinach, leading me to write this. **

**Anything you guys wanna throw in is helpful. **


End file.
